Disclaimer: I swore I was JK Rowling the other day - or, maybe not. She owns all recognizable characters, but the plot is completely mine!

Authors Note:: Hello! First of all, this is my new story about Molly (II) Weasley! It was inspired by a mixture of Sense & Sensibility, Legally Blonde, The Last Holiday, Bridget Jones Diary and a number of other random things. Secondly, I'd like to thank Gabey & Martha for being amazing and helping me with this - seriously, they listened when I was arguing with myself over which new story to post. They're pretty brilliant.

Again, I apologize if my American-spelling completely butchers the story for you. Feel free to tell me so in my review box :P

Chapter One: Three Weeks

Everyone she knew was married. Okay, so not everyone – half of her cousins were either in committed relationships or still single (namely James) but still, everyone was married!

What was the big deal about being married anyway? What's the difference between saying the words, "I do" and living together? An irritated and slightly drowsy Molly Weasley pondered this as her telly played a laughter track.

It was like married women had their own secret society. Spinster singles longed for the day when they would be welcomed into the sacred sisterhood and granted knowledge of all their useful underground abilities.

And Molly had almost been there. Almost. She had been at the front door of the society house, her fist almost connecting with the handsome wood door when a trapdoor opened underneath her feet and she was dragged back to the land of lonely hearts.

It was all a damned conspiracy! She had been so close! Molly could have smelled or tasted the glorious secrets that awaited her!

She blamed Spencer. Or, as her cousin Dominique had christened him, King Shit.

King Shit was, of course, her no-good-rotten-ex-fiancé.

"I love you," The rugged man announced, flinging his body onto the ground before the girl's feet. "You're the only one for me. Marry me – be my one and only. Sarah, Sarah…without you, I am nothing!"

"LIAR!" A silver spoon flew through the air and clunked against the television screen.

It was all King Shit's fault.

Damn him with his irresistible smile that seemed to make her knees go weak. Damn him with his mismatched blue and green eyes that reminded her of a husky dog.

Molly's entire flat was submerged in darkness, the only light was radiating off her telly. Silently, she thanked her Aunt Hermione for integrating the muggle-world with the wizarding one; her lips allowed a small sigh as she transfigured a stray straw into another spoon before generously scooping herself some more ice cream.

How long had she been sitting here? Hours? No. Days? No. Weeks? Probably. Molly wouldn't be surprised if her sofa had a permanent imprint of her body by now.

Her pensiveness was destroyed when a vicious knocking interrupted her thoughts. Cautiously, she lowered the volume with her wand before a familiar voice blasted its way into her flat.

"MOLLY WEASLEY, IF YOU DON'T OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW…" Dominique Weasley's voice carried through the thick wood, "I SWEAR I'LL BLAST THIS FUCKING THING DOWN."

Sighing, Molly – still wrapped inside her blankets, padded slowly over to the door and opened it a crack.

"Don't yell obscenities in my hallway, please."

Dominique must've been in full Veela-mode, because her blue eyes glinted dangerously, her hair was practically floating (think Medusa, albeit frighteningly beautiful, Medusa) by its own accord as she forced her way into the flat. She promptly tripped over a chair.

"Sorry," Molly mumbled, slowly making her way towards her cousin.

"MOLLY," Dom started to say but paused to switch on the lights with her wand. She whirled around and looked her younger cousin up and down with shrewd eyes. "Nobody's heard from you in three weeks."

Molly didn't reply. Instead, she sat back onto her sofa and focused her eyes on the show. Dom stalked over, both hands on her hips as she stood in front of the telly.

"Dom," She whined. "What do you want from me?"

"We get it, Molls, we do. King Shit completely fucked you up, but you're just being pathetic." Dom gestured to the scattered takeaway boxes, "You can't just disappear for three weeks and not expect someone to come, half-expecting to stumble upon your decaying body."

In response, Molly wrapped the blanket over her head Dom was obscured from her line of vision.

"Really, your place has become a sty." Dom's right eye twitched – a strange habit shared by her older sister, Victoire, "How long have those dishes been sitting in the sink, Molly? Are you a witch or not?" Molly's cousin took a seat besides her and flinched, "What on earth is that smell?"

Dom's jaw dropped. Honestly and completely dropped. Her right eye continued twitching like a dying squirrel as she grabbed Molly's arm and shoved her towards the bathroom.

"If you even think about coming out before you're clean…"

Being the peace-loving, selfless Pisces that she was, Molly closed the door without another word.

The hot water drummed against her back and she closed her eyes. For the first time in three weeks, she felt a little bit better. She leaned against the ceramic wall; her eyes were still closed and breathed in the steam.

Stupid Spencer. King Shit. Douche-bag extraordinaire.

Molly dressed slowly, taking a second to view herself in the bathroom mirror. Her reflection was disappointing, to say the least.

"When's the last time you properly moisturized your skin?" Her reflection complained grumpily, bringing its hands up to pat her cheeks.

She didn't even bother responding. Her faded red trousers stuck to her semi-dry legs as she wandered back out into her flat. Actually, Molly wasn't even sure if this was her flat anymore.

The curtains were pulled back from all the windows – exposing Molly's small cocoon to bright, natural light and the unsafe outside world. Dominique, herself, was in the kitchen, standing over her sink, viciously conducting the dishes to wash themselves.

"Don't you dare close those windows," Dominique snapped without even looking up as she moved quickly away from the sink to manually fold a random blanket from the floor. "This whole flat stinks, so I'm airing it out for you."

Her right eye was still twitching.

"Kind of you," Molly replied sheepishly, sitting back down onto her sofa and clutching her knees to her chest. "Don't you have somewhere you need to be?"

"Nope," Dom replied, crisscrossing the room towards Molly's bedroom. "Newest book just hit the stores, so I'm free for a bit."

"Another one?" She watched interestingly as her cousin enchanted the bed to straighten up and make itself. Her fuzzy pink slippers danced their way back into her closet and her skirt ironed itself. Molly's entire flat was in a frenzy of cleaning – something she hadn't done in months (if she had told Dom that it was actually a year, Dom would have died of shock).

"Of course," Dom's voice trumpeted from her bedroom. "I left a copy on your dining table – the main character's based on you."

Most people would be flattered if such a statement was made, but Molly was not. Lifting her body from her mold, she walked over to the table and picked up the compact novel entitled: Bewitched, Bewildered, and Besotted.

"Sounds a bit cheesy, doesn't it?" She called out.

Dom let out a sound that seemed to be a cross between a chortle and an indignant snort.

"My publisher loves it," Dom's head poked out of the bedroom and she shrugged. "Timeless romance between a pathetically broken-up heroine and a handsome, mysterious fellow – my reader's will simply eat it up."

"Thanks, Dom." Molly went over to her dusty bookshelf (Dom had yet to tackle this particular obstacle) and set the novel beside her other ones, "I still have yet to read the previous one." Or any of the ones before that, Molly said to herself.

"You really should read that particular one," her cousin suggested with a large grin. "I mean, we all know you're definitely not getting any, so why not read about someone based on you getting some?"

Dominique had made her fortune by writing smutty romance novels – though, Molly wouldn't exactly classify any of it as romance. If there was any truth to the American phrase, more bang for your buck - Dominique's writing was it.

"Are those the track bottoms Victoire got you for Christmas, last year?" Wiping the sweat from her forehead, Dominique walked over to Molly and looked her up and down, "You haven't been exercising, have you? They don't look like they fit anymore. Don't tell me that you've only been sitting on your arse, eating ice cream?" Her expression was shocked.

Molly did what any sensible twenty-something (five) year old woman would do – she fell onto her bum and started crying.

"Molls?" Dom wrapped her arms around her sobbing cousin and softened her expression, "Molly, don't cry! Darling, I didn't mean to be harsh – you know I didn't."

She sniffed and Dom brought both of her hands to Molly's cheeks, wiping off any excess tears.

"For fuck's sake," Dominique smiled when Molly finally stopped. "All you need's a hen's night." Then, she added thoughtfully, "I haven't had a proper one in so long!"

Molly silently nodded her head.

"Who'll we invite?" Her cousin immediately jumped into action, sitting up straighter with a brightened expression on her pale face, "Rosie? I'll tell her that she can't bring that idiot bloke of hers – that bastard, Malfoy. Lucy's off, visiting Louis in Egypt…"

"V-Victoire?" Molly suggested, "H-Haven't seen her in a long time…"

"Eh," Dom waved off the mention of her older sister with one hand. "Knocked up, won't be bloody fun…"

"K-knocked up?"

"Yup," Dom looked highly disinterested. "They had an announcement and everything – 'tis a pity that you were in deep relationship mourning."

Guilt pierced Molly's heart. Had she been so wallowed up in her hole of sorrow that she missed the celebrated announcement of her cousin's happiness? Biting her lip, she shook Dom's arm, "Let's invite her anyway. I'm sure she'll be glad to come along."

Raising both eyebrows, Dom accepted this information and shrugged, "Alright, anything you want, dear Cousin Molly." She stood up, wiping both hands on her trousers, "Though, it'll be abso-fucking-lutely unacceptable to go out while you're looking like that." She gestured at Molly with her right hand.

Three hours, seventeen dresses, seven pairs of shoes and four rather loud phone calls later – Dom, Molly and Rosie were standing outside of Victoire's house.

Dominique rolled her eyes, "That would defeat the entire purpose of a hen's night."

"I wouldn't have minded," Molly piped up quietly.

"Yes, but I would have." Dom replied, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

"Are we talking about Scorpius, again?" Victoire rolled her silver eyes, "Molly!" Her face brightened immediately when she saw her young cousin, "It's so nice to see you out and about!"

"Sorry, I missed the news." Molly apologized while Victoire waved it off, "It was sort of a personal thing."

"Yes, yes," She shrugged. "Teddy sends his love."

"Who wants his love?" Dom retorted, "Disgusting – sending his love while his wife leaves on a hen's night."

"You don't make any sense, sometimes, Dom." Rosie commented, with a shrug. She still had her arms crossed, apparently still upset that her boyfriend couldn't tag along.

"Ah, well, that's why we've got you, I suppose," Grinning, Dom tossed her arms around Molly and Rosie and gave a hefty squeeze.

"How've you been, Molls?" Victoire asked as they piled into Dominique's enchanted car. Rosie claimed the passenger seat and Molly sat in the back, next to Victoire. "You look tired." Her blue eyes scanned Molly's worn face with anxiousness.

"I'm fine," She grinned and clasped her hands together. "How's the bun?"

"Ergh," Victoire grumbled. "Was so excited about it, that I completely forgot about the side-effects of being pregnant." She sighed and leaned forward, "I never imagined how sick I would feel in the mornings and Teddy's been a dear. Maman says that when she was pregnant with me, I made her just as ill."

"Honestly," Dom chattered from the driver's seat. "I was surprised that you and Teddy were able to conceive."

Again, Victoire gave her eyes a roll, "We can't all have barren wombs, like you."

"She wanted so bad to go with Lucy to Egypt," Victoire commented nonchalantly, even though they all detected a slight tone of disapproval. "You should've heard her, 'oh, Egypt, full of pyramids and such – how utterly romantic'."

"Ah, well, nobody asked her too." Was the reply from Dom as she switched gears and swerved into another lane, "These goddamn muggles!" She bent over the wheel and squinted at the other cars, "They have all these stupid laws that don't even keep them out of trouble," A car cut her off and Dom braked hard. "Fucking bastard!" She yelled.

"Language, Dom," Molly piped up and caught her cousin's glare in the rearview mirror.

"My poor unborn child," Victoire lamented. "Already in the process of being corrupted by her Aunt Dominique."

The girls continued chattering and gossiping about people they knew, but Molly chose to remain silent and stare out the window. Even though her cousins were attempting to avoid all topics that pertained to King Shit, he loomed over them like a strangling fog.

Goddamn, the dress scratched her back. Molly reached a hand back to scratch the spot, but she couldn't reach it. She wriggled, trying to alleviate the itch when Victoire extended a kind hand and relieved her of the nuisance.

"How's your novel?" Molly inquired, giving Victoire a small smile.

"Ah, writer's block," She sighed. "It's terrible. Your mum's been telling me that it's no problem – that every writer gets it at some point or another…doesn't stop it from being awful, though."

Like her younger sister, Victoire was also a novelist. Though, unlike her younger sister, Victoire's novels had more plot and less romance. Most of her books were based on real-life mystery or true-crime cases with added bits to make things more dramatic. However, ever since the massive popularity first book, Victoire had been struggling to match it.

"Your mum's been worried," Dom invaded Molly's conversation. "She told me that if I wouldn't go check on you – she'd be forced to make Uncle Harry start a Missing-Witch file."

Again, Molly felt pained by the guilt and sighed. Rose changed the subject to Scorpius, which annoyed Dom and amused Victoire.

"We're here," Dom announced as she cut off another car and squeezed against the curb. "Ladies, please get the fuck out of my car." She grinned.

Before Molly could utter, "Language, Dom," Victoire grabbed her arm and hauled her out of the vehicle.

Compared to her flashy cousins, Molly couldn't help but feel a bit intimidated. They didn't even bother waiting in line at the club and walked straight up to the door. Oozing their Veela genetics, Dom and Victoire flashed the man a smile. Molly was half-surprised and half-relieved that the man allowed her and Rose to follow their cousins.

The music was deafening. Dom's head was already bobbing along to the quick beat while Victoire headed towards a booth and table. Clutching her small bag, Rose followed after Victoire as Dom made her way to the bartender.

"Come along, Molls," Rose returned after tossing her bag to Victoire and grabbed her older cousin's hand. "Dom's gone to get drinks."

"Fuckin' arse," Dom returned with her lips curled into a sneer and set the glasses on the table. "Thought he could pick up on me, little prick – little boys who play with fire get their fingers burned."

Victoire pointed her wand at her glass and removed all the alcohol from it, "Darling sister of mine, I fear that you've forgotten about my condition. Aguamenti."

"Didn't forget," Dom replied, still disgruntled over the bartender. "Just wanted to see what you'd do."

"She was a Ravenclaw," Rose commented, sipping her pink colored drink through a straw. "You couldn't have thought to slip that one past her."

Molly was developing a headache that had nothing to do with her drink (considering that she had had maybe two or three sips of it). The flashing lights were obnoxiously bright – but still, the room remained too dim to see anything clearly; the music was unrecognizable, though, somewhat catchy.

Dom pointed her wand at her glass and instantly refilled it, "S'not that strong, compared to firewhiskey." She told Molly, "But, still," She raised it in a toast, "To Molly!"

"To Molly," Rose and Victoire agreed before emptying their glasses.

It might not have been that strong, to Dom, but Molly was getting more and more giggly. They laughed about Scorpius's run in with Uncle Ron and how Lily was becoming more and more irritating. Molly found herself contributing to the conversation and even adding to the gossip.

"I might have been locked up in my flat," She giggled. "Didn't stop me from hearing that Spencer's gotten engaged, again." Molly gave a snort-like laugh before disappearing behind her full glass.

Dom, Victoire and Rose (who had all laughed at Molly's previous stories), looked rather distressed.

"That isn't funny, darling," Victoire said softly.

"It is," Molly contradicted. "It really is." She gave a small hiccup, "Ah, I'm such a bleeding idiot. Spencer…Spencer…he's too gorgeous to still be a singleton."

"But, it's only been three weeks…" Rose interrupted, "It doesn't matter how gorgeous he is – it isn't decent!"

"No, it fucking isn't," Dom slammed her glass on the table. "Engaged? Who could he have proposed to after three goddamn weeks? And honestly, we already knew that he lacked decency but this is a little much."

Tears were rolling down Molly's cheeks as she laughed again, refilling her glass with her wand and downing it in an instant.

Dom, Victoire and Rose exchanged looks. They couldn't tell if Molly was crying from laughing or from actual sadness.

"I was such an idiot," She was whispering. "I actually believed that he loved me. Why would he love someone like me?"

"Someone like you?" Victoire asked incredulously, flaring up like Dom, "Why the hell would you say something like that? You're a lovely person, Molly – don't you ever doubt that!"

Molly was laughing again, spilling her drink all over her nice dress as tears continued to stream down her face, "I wasted my youth on that guy…"

"Wasted youth?" Rose snorted, "You're only twenty-five, Molls."

"I'm bloody twenty-nine!" Victoire was saying, her hair suddenly floating off her shoulders as her eyes turned into two icy orbs, "Don't you ever let a boy make you feel this way, Molly. Spe – King Shit isn't fit to lick the mud off your Wellingtons."

With that, they refilled their cups until Victoire was the only sober one. Somehow, she manoeuvred them into Dom's car and sped off towards the closest Weasley house – Molly's parents' house.

Molly awoke at four in the morning with her head hammering and her stomach churning. She barely made it to her bathroom before her stomach contents came sputtering from her mouth.

She slumped against the cool porcelain and wiped her mouth with a square of toilet paper. In all her twenty-five years, Molly had never been so damn hung-over. Briefly recalling the events of the night before, she utterly regretted telling her cousins the truth about Spencer.

Her stomach growled in agreement.

Standing up and rinsing her mouth with water from the tap, she softly padded down the stairs and hurried into the dark kitchen.

Pulling her wand from her sleeve (it was a nifty place to keep it, after all), Molly held it out and whispered, "Lumos."

Her hand pulled open the enchanted icebox and removed a slice of chocolate cake that she knew would be there. She also poured herself a glass of milk and sat at the counter, eating and contemplating.

Although she forced herself not to think about him, thoughts of Spencer invaded her until she could no longer hold them back. What had happened to them? They had once been happy…when had they stopped being happy?

Her lips quivered as she brought the cool glass to them and thought about his mismatched eyes. The left one was a vibrant green and the right one was a clear blue – his smile was slightly crooked and there was a scar over his right eyebrow. Molly closed her eyes and held out her right hand.

She had done it so many times – closing her eyes and running her hands down his face as he grinned or laughed.

"Why?" He had wondered when she had finished.

"To forever memorize your face," She had explained truthfully and shyly. He smiled and brushed a hand against her cheek.

Merlin, she had loved him. She had loved him at Hogwarts – even from afar, and then she loved him while he slept soundly beside her.

Setting down her fork, Molly rubbed her eyes with both hands and tried to stop the tears that wanted to fall.

When did he stop loving her? When did their love become a burden? When did he tire of her? She hadn't changed much – Molly paused this thought and glanced down at her waist, okay, maybe she had gained a couple pounds after they got together…but…she was still the same, wasn't she?

Drowning in her self-pity, Molly didn't notice the footsteps until two arms wrapped themselves around her body.

"Why didn't you call us?" Audrey Weasley's voice was soft, soothing like the sound of water running over stones, "We were worried sick."

"I-I'm sorry, Mum," Molly said, unable to stop the tears any longer, "I-I d-di-didn't even think about what you all were feeling…"

Audrey's arms tightened around her daughter as she rested her chin against Molly's shoulder, "Your father was furious, naturally. I had to stop him from storming to Uncle Harry's and demanding that Spencer be sent to Azkaban."

The image of Percy Weasley, balding glory and all, stomping over to Uncle Harry's and demanding such a ridiculous request, made Molly giggle.

"For ages, none of your cousins told us what had happened…" Audrey stopped for a moment, "Actually, I don't know if your Nana Molly knows that your wedding's been called off…"

Molly cringed, "Nobody's told her, yet?"

"If there was any single person that Spencer should be frightened of," Audrey said simply. "It would be Nana Molly – especially after she learns how you've been moping about in your flat for three weeks."

Silently, she agreed with her Mother. Hell hath no fury like the grandmother of a scorned granddaughter. Especially a Weasley grandmother.

"I think I nagged Dom so much that she finally gave in and told me that Spencer had left you." Audrey's words were slow, testing the waters as Molly shrugged. She was not Lucy, after all.

"You didn't really call me, Mum."

"Oh, we did," Audrey rolled her hazel eyes. "Except, every time your Father wanted a chance to leave you a message – he'd start shouting. Bloody imbecile." But her voice was full of fondness.

"Mum?" Molly's headache began pounding against her temples and she suddenly felt sick again, "Do you have anything for my blasted headache?"

Audrey broke into a hearty laugh before she let go of her daughter and threw open one of the cabinets, "Your father doesn't know this, but I've nursed many hangovers in my day." She winked.

"Always the rebel, Mum," Molly grinned fondly at her mother.

Molly and her mother continued their mother-to-daughter chat until the sun peaked heavily over the horizon. Audrey pointed her wand at the coffee machine and it instantly began spouting steam from its top.

There was a commotion down the stairs and Percy Weasley burst into the kitchen, glasses on the tip of his nose and arms outstretched.

"You're home, love!" He nearly tripped over his own feet as he threw himself at his eldest daughter, "It's been too long, Molly." He smiled fondly at her before letting go and walking over to plant a kiss on his wife's cheek.

"Coffee?" Audrey removed the pot from the machine and Percy held out his mug.

"Burned, as usual," He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the Weasley fashion after he brought the mug to his lips. "I will never get tired of your burned coffee, Audrey."

"After all, it was my coffee that won you over," She beamed. "I always told my Mother that my coffee-making abilities would one day get me a man. "

Percy snorted before setting down the mug and going over to the stove and tapping his wand against the dials, "What do you want for breakfast, Molly?"

It had been so long since Molly had last seen her parents flirting with each other that she was at a loss for words.

"Eggs and sausages, Uncle Percy?" Rose had wandered in, her right hand pressed to her temple as Audrey rushed to get the hangover potion.

Dom followed, looking more and more like a blonde zombie as she collapsed on top of the counter.

Percy turned and gave them all a disapproving look, "Too much to drink?"

"Hush," Audrey slapped his arm companionably. "That's what girls do when they have a hen's night. Ah, I still remember mine from before our wedding."

"I'd like to forget my stag night," Percy recalled with a shrug as he turned over an egg with his wand. "My brother's were quite set on…"

"Daddy, I don't think we'd like to hear this…" Molly groaned.

"Agreed," Dom muttered from within her mass of hair.

"Thirded?" Rose inquired as she downed the bitter hangover potion with a cringe.

"It was all your Father's idea," Percy told Rose. "Honestly, don't know what was going through his thick head…"

"Amazement," Audrey added. "Much like the bewilderment of your brother George, as to why on earth, I wanted to marry you."

"You only love me for my cooking," Percy quipped.

They exchanged a look that could only be described as gooey.

"Do your parents ever flirt like this?" Molly asked Rose, knowing that Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron were infamous for their bickering and making up.

"I must say," Rose replied thoughtfully. "This is a new record for parental flirting."

Audrey rolled her eyes as Percy levitated the plate full of eggs to her. She placed them on the table and charmed the plates to fly out and set themselves.

"Eat up, dears. Merlin knows nothing cures a hangover like food."

"Thank you, Aunt Audrey!" They chorused.

"Thank you, Aunt Audrey?" Percy repeated incredulously, "After Uncle Percy cooked up all the food?" He followed up the plate of eggs by setting a platter of sausages beside it.

"Don't be jealous dear," Audrey replied. "They love me more."

They settled down to eat – Percy at the head of the table and Audrey at the foot. Usually, she would sit beside him and occasionally (much to Molly and Lucy's chagrin) hold hands with him under the table.

Though, Molly supposed they weren't as gooey as Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny. Albus had told her many times that they had been caught doing more than holding hands underneath the dining table…

It really was no wonder that Lily ended up like she was.

"So," Audrey questioned, her hands clasped together and her brow raised in question. "Now that we've fed you all…who's washing the dishes?"

"I'm off to work, Weasley's!" Percy announced, kissing his wife and daughter on the cheek before grabbing his cloak and briefcase. He turned to the door and waved a final time before straightening his glasses and apparating out of the kitchen.

"I've told him a thousand times," Audrey tutted, "Not to apparate in and out of the kitchen!"

A/N: Good? Bad? Ugly? If you haven't noticed, Percy/Audrey is my new favorite ship. And believe me, he's rather in character (you know, those character developments that happen behind the scenes?). Thanks for reading, now, please leave a review in the little grey box below ;)